Thursday, October 9, 2008

But you knew that, right? Because: I Tweeted the entire damned time. You grew sick of it; you un-followed me; you unsubscribed to the blog; you made little BPD's and burned them in effigy. It was shameless, shameful, disgusting, and really just me bragging about the awesome time I was having. I'm sorry. I really am. I have no class.

I have even less class than you think. I'm going to re-live the weekend for you via the Tweets, with a little added detail here and there as seems appropriate. Because you care about every tiny detail (I've used an italicized phrase beginning with "every" twice now in this post; I'm a great writer.) It's going to be long, arduous, and I doubt you'll make it to the end, because I'm not that interesting.

This place was at the end of dark, scary alley. There were stuffed animal heads on the walls and the restaurant served rabbit. Emily won't eat anything cuter than she is, though, so she had a cheese plate. I had a steak, because no cow is cuter than Emily.

So, as dinner was winding down we jumped in a cab to go to Broadway for this show involving muppets and sex and swearing. But the cab took forever and we were going to miss the call, so we jumped out of the cab a couple of blocks away and ran (Emily was in heels) down the street, shoving lame theater-goers (lame after we had knocked them to the ground and stomped on their ankles, anyway) out of the way, and we just beat the curtain.

(Jane Porricelli does her first tequila shot. With her parents looking on.)

So, in case you didn't know it the excuse for the trip was that somehow enough of you clicked on a little button over at the Hot Blogger Calendar site for me to show my boobs to the world, all at my own expense. Well, Emily's expense. It's not like I work, right? I'm just a dad. Lazy dad. Slacker. Sitting around the house all day.

So, at the end of dinner as we were all reaching for wallets and preparing to do the "I swear I left a 20% tip but now it looks like there isn't enough money in the pot" dance, Peter Shankman just straight up announces that his organization bought dinner. Peter Shankman. Help A Reporter Out. Peter Shankman. Help A Reporter Out. (<---------I figure I owe them this much at least for the chimichanga).

This was incredibly painful to attempt. Because not only is it a half-step out of my range, the entire freaking song is within a couple of notes of each other, so it wasn't just the high notes I was missing: it was basically all of them. Also, I'd only had one beer so I was in no condition to do karaoke; I need at least 4 beers. Of course, with that much beer I'd have really been straining to hit those notes. I should have done a Johnny Cash song. But thank God for forgiving, drunk, New York karaoke bar patrons who didn't actually boo me. But I walked off the floor like a rock star, flashing a double Sign of the Devil and sticking my tongue out as if I hadn't just murdered an awesome drinking song. Then my lovely wife had to go and show me up by knocking out some Ace of Base.

Really, I ought to have learned my lesson after the first time. But I'm slow like that in the morning. Also? The hour-long cab ride into New York from JFK really only takes 20 minutes. Who knew that all you needed was a cabbie willing to take pedestrians and school buses down with equal glee?

I mean, I like them. But what jackass made this call: "We're going to have little arcades in the big lobby areas, and they'll be a ton of fun, but we're only going to have two games. And those games will be 25 years old. But new copies. Nostalgia should be powerful enough to get them to plunk quarters down every 10 minutes and 20 steps. Right?"

Oh hell, who am I kidding? I'd totally blow you off just to pose with a homeless Elmo no matter where he lived.

Glad you and Emily had a great time.

Although I would have paid money to watch you butcher that Journey song. I'd also have recorded it with my cell phone and then posted it on YouTube because that's the type of thoughtful and loving friend I am.

That could possibly have been the single-most entertaining blog post I've ever read. I'm not kidding. I was driving and reading it on my Blackberry. I damn near drove into two trees. I put my LIFE on the line to read that post, it was so entertaining.

Need info about the calendar. Cuz I'm not going to put it up and drool or anything....I'll really just be looking at the ARTISTIC factors of all the HOt Bloggers and how the photographs "speak to me."

Glad you had such a good time! Thanks for letting us all live vicariously. Although, I'm way more jealous of the weekend alone, just you and Emily than of photo shoot. My kingdom for a weekend without my kids.

hello! Yes, busydad's sister here. Wierdness seeing him in a hot calendar (whuh?) but confirmed I think YOU'RE hot :) And he's lazy, so I hopped onto your page to see how NYC went. Glad you guys had a great time. Congrats!

It looks like a fantastic time. Awesome, awesome, awesome! You seem to have captured the energy that is only New York and now I can't wait to go back up there on holiday. Can't wait to see the calendar!!